8:08 a.m. - 2003-08-01
devil fish
too many images, too many words.
demons in my dark but floating cavernous angel mouths and eyes in a shimmering dream of nighttime and i try to focus but it always slips away.
a devil fish in my living room a solid reminder and cause for a smile. my first-try, prototype lantern, like a structurally unsound fighting fish, all red and silk and floating appendages... next year i also plan to make a fish, but already i have plans for modifications, changes, variations that will make the new one better-faster-stronger. does that make this year's the beta version?
the more time i spend with Jason, the more i wonder. i'm trying not to worry about where this is going, or how much i care, or even how much he cares. there are ways in which i'm using him to re-establish my own stability and strength, but i don't think i can separate that from the amount that i already care. i think that if he didn't mean so much to me already, i couldn't use him the way i do, but i still hate that i seem to be doing it, that it's a behaviour that i can recognize...
maybe that's the problem - not what i'm doing (which is honestly far better characterized as him knowingly helping me make changes that, so far, i've failed to make alone) but the cynical attitude with which i seem to be approaching this. it shouldn't be about doubt, it should be about joy.
i don't want to be cynical. i want to fall in love and be happy. i'm confused here - i can remember falling in love violently, quickly, passionately, to the extent that nothing else mattered, but this is soft and slow and leaves me feeling warm at night. i can't call it love yet, but it's something and it's getting stronger. we talk a lot, and laugh a lot, and i feel like i can tell him anything. i'm impatient to know where it will go... but i don't want to rush anything.
i'm not making any sense, and i'm wandering back into dreams and falling and the daunting endless race to feel alive.
